


Something Old, Something New, Something Dumb to Do

by Hllangel



Series: Dumb things to do in Vegas [1]
Category: Hockey RPF
Genre: Drunk Sex, Dumb boys being stupid about feelings, M/M, Rimming, Woke Up Married, drunk weddings, married in vegas
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-24
Updated: 2018-05-24
Packaged: 2019-05-13 10:03:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 15,023
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14746757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hllangel/pseuds/Hllangel
Summary: "What would you do?" Zach asks.It's New Year's Eve, and they let the Knights get their first ever hat trick. Auston is very, very drunk right now.What it means is that Auston is not at all prepared for Freddie todemonstratehis proposal instead of just talking through it. He hands his glass to Zach, picks up Auston's free hand in his own and easily drops down to one knee.Or: The Leafs lose in Vegas on New Year’s Eve. Auston and Freddie get drunk and make some decisions, with a little help from their friends.





	Something Old, Something New, Something Dumb to Do

**Author's Note:**

> THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION BASED ON THE LIVES AND LIKENESSES OF REAL PEOPLE. IF YOU OR ANYONE YOU KNOW IS MENTIONED IN THIS STORY, PLEASE HIT THE BACK BUTTON NOW. 
> 
> This was originally a prompt for Pucking Rare, but I wrote it fast and didn’t want to sit on it until reveals, so it’s coming now. 
> 
> Many many thanks to @Audrey2nd and trinityclare for the plotting and encouragement. And to trinityclare for the excellent beta.

"No no no, no." Freddie pauses to take a gulp of his drink. "No, that is a terrible idea, Hyman." 

Auston glances over and sees that Zach's wide eyes are comically wide, and he looks confused, even though he's still smiling. Zach Hyman is always smiling. 

"Her mom thinks it's great idea, she's putting together an email list for me." 

"What if she says no?" Freddie asks. He's got his weird goalie stare going, and Auston's gaze pinballs back and forth between them. 

"She won't, we've talked about getting married." 

"For real? Or just someday." 

Auston has no idea how either of them are having such a coherent conversation right now. They just lost a game in Las Vegas. Freddie let five goals in and had taken three shots as soon as they walked into the party. Auston himself is only really upright because he's got an arm around Mitch, who is surprisingly solid for such a tiny dude. 

He says that to Mitch, who promptly takes two steps to the left, effectively dumping Auston into Freddie's arms. Freddie catches him without breaking his conversation, hooking one of his arms around Auston's ribs and pulling him flush into his side. Auston stumbles again while trying to arrange his feet into proper order, but Freddie holds him tight until Auston gets his feet right and can relax. 

Zach and Freddie are still talking. 

Auston tries to keep following the conversation but mostly ends up staring at Freddie's eyelashes. 

"What if you forget someone important and your grand perfect proposal is forever ruined in her mind because she didn't get to share the experience with her best friend from high school while her weird cousin that she secretly hates, but who you can't leave off the list because you're the only one who knows, is there?" 

Zach's face falls, as much as it can, given that his mouth is basically just a permanent smile. "Um." He says.

"You want it to be just the two of you," Freddie takes a gulp of his drink again. "And maybe a friend to hide somewhere nearby and take pictures." 

"Creepy," is Mitch's only contribution to the conversation. 

Auston leans more firmly on Freddie and tries to pay attention to something other than how plump Freddie's lips are. Mitch is giving him a weird look; of course, Mitch also _knows_ , and Auston absolutely can't think about that while Freddie is giving Zach advice on how to propose. 

"What would you do?" Zach asks. 

It's New Year's Eve, and they let the Knights get their first ever hat trick. Auston is very, very drunk right now.

What it means is that Auston is not at all prepared for Freddie to _demonstrate_ his proposal instead of just talking through it. He hands his glass to Zach, picks up Auston's free hand in his own and easily drops down to one knee. When he looks up at Auston, he's every bit as focused as he is during shootout drills in practice. 

"Auston Matthews, we've been playing together for almost two years now. I love working with you everyday, I love spending time with you on the ice. Even on the days when I can't keep your shots out of my goal. You make me so happy when you win games for us. I want to spend the rest of my career with you. Will you marry me?" 

Auston's eyes might be a little bit watery, but he's going to chalk that up to meeting Freddie's eyes and trying not to blink, and not to the other _thing_. 

"Yes, FredEx, of course I will." He pulls on Freddie's hand until he's standing, and Auston brings his hand up to give Freddie the usual goalie head taps. He realizes his miscalculation when he goes to bump his forehead into Freddie's and forgets that there's _no helmets in between_. until he's almost actually kissing Freddie. In front of their friends and teammates. He can feel Freddie's breath on his mouth, and the feeling spreads down to his toes. _Not here, damn it_ , he tells himself. 

One exaggerated kiss on the lips is probably expected. Auston knocking Freddie over and climbing on top of him probably isn't. And Auston doesn't trust himself not to do that so he pulls away, and ignores Mitch's glare. 

"But like, pretend the rest of you weren't here," Freddie says, turning back to Zach. He's still got a hand on Auston's shoulder. 

Zach looks like he wants to take notes.

***

Patty breaks first, around 12:30, which is really after 3am back home.

After Patty, it's Marty; then Bozie; then it's just after 1am, there's only five of them left. Their open bar's been closed, and the servers are packing away tables and bottles, cleaning all the tables around them and watching closely. 

"What's wrong with everyone?" Mitch asks once Zach and Willy wander off down the street. It's just Auston and Mitch and Freddie left standing on the sidewalk. "We're in Las Vegas and it's New Year's. The party's just starting." 

"It's morning back home," Freddie says. 

"Let's go somewhere." Mitch sets off down the street without looking back. Despite the crowds, it's easy to follow them, and most people move easily enough out of their way. 

They watch the fountains at the Bellagio until Freddie finishes his last drink, and they move on to find a trash can, and then keep walking, going nowhere in particular, and talking shit about the season and Freddie's lack of ability in Fortnite. 

Auston almost falls right on top of Mitch when Mitch stops dead in the middle of the walkway and turns back to them, grinning. 

"Remember how you got engaged tonight?" 

Auston is actually going to kill him. Babs might come for his head, but Auston figures he's a good enough player that he's probably safe. Which is good because Mitch has this knowing smirk on his face, looking earnestly from Auston to Freddie, and Auston had told him the thing in _confidence_. 

He shifts over until he's nearly leaning on Freddie instead. Rationally, he knows that this is probably a bad idea, but it's New Year's and he's drunk and it's just the three of them out on the pavement full of people who don't give a shit who they are. 

"Yep! It's going to be a June wedding," Auston says. "We're thinking a blue and white color scheme. We can all wear our jerseys."

"June like everyone else." Mitch rolls his eyes. "But what if you got married tonight instead?" 

He points behind him at the neon sign announcing that there's a wedding chapel inside the hotel. Because it's the Venetian, there's some impressive gold plated carvings around the sign, and a basket of fresh, expensive looking flowers arranged around it. 

Auston freezes and looks at Freddie. It's impossible to tell what he's thinking, even though he's had at least as much to drink as Auston. More, because he carried a fresh drink out of their party. And he only just finished it. 

"No way," Auston says. He's twenty years old and in his second year of playing NHL hockey. He shouldn't get married now. He's _twenty_ , and drunk. And marrying his casual hookup that he's actually stupid in love with is probably a bad idea. 

But none of this matters because Freddie is looking straight at Auston again. 

"If you were really proposing, what kind of thing would you say? No hockey bullshit." Mitch asks. 

"Wait, are you --"

Mitch grins, showing all of his teeth. "No, not yet. I'm just curious." 

He sounds not-drunk, and Auston's head is still swimming, which is entirely unfair. Auston looks over at Freddie before he ends up murdering his best friend in the street. 

Freddie doesn't go down on his knee again, but he does take Auston's left hand in both of his. 

When he speaks, he also sounds not-drunk. Or, well, it's kind of hard for Auston to tell, because he always sort of slurs the ends of his words and sentences together, and Auston is too drunk to be able to tell the difference. 

"I meant what I said before," Freddie says. Apparently he's really into demonstrating proposals tonight, and Auston doesn't know how to react, so when he pulls Auston in closer, sneaks a hand around to the small of Auston's back, he lets it happen. 

"I want to spend the rest of my career with you. But also I want to take you home to meet my family, travel with you in the summer, and farther than just LA. I want to wake up to your terrible music and wait out your extra long showers. I want to play euchre with you --" 

Auston's jaw drops and Mitch lets out a howl that sounds suspiciously like _thank god_. Freddie continues. 

"-- but no more than once a week. I love when you get excited over new, ugly suits, and I'm really glad you're wearing one tonight because if you say yes it'll be in our wedding pictures forever and you're going to get chirped for the rest of your life. And I want to be there to see it." 

Freddie is looking straight at him, but his face is open and soft, and he's not doing any weird goalie stare right now. It's easy for Auston to look him straight in the eyes when he says, 

"Will you marry me? Here. Tonight." 

The answer is the easiest one Auston's ever given in his life. 

"Yes," he says, and barely gets the word out before Freddie is kissing him. Auston holds on and kisses until he's dizzy and breathless and when Mitch starts pulling them towards the chapel he feels like he's gliding out onto new ice with freshly sharpened blades.

***

The ceremony is a blur; they pick out some rings and pay for them as quickly as possible, while Mitch browses the wall of overly expensive gift baskets. There's some paperwork and signatures and Auston has to remind himself to sign it for real, not autograph-sign it. Freddie's hand is on his shoulder for the whole thing, and Mitch is off to the side snapping pictures and chirping them.

Auston ignores him, listens to the officiant instead, repeats what he's told to repeat and then he gets to kiss Freddie again. It shouldn't feel different, but it does. They can barely stop kissing to take official photos, or in the cab back to the team hotel a few miles off the strip, or in the lobby while waiting for the elevator. 

A hand sneaks into his back pocket and Auston smiles, presses harder into Freddie's hips to get more of that and ends up with his mouth on Freddie's ear instead. 

"Hey," Freddie barks, sounding more like a goalie and less like Auston's husband _(husband)_ who was making out with him two seconds ago. "That's my husband, not yours." 

Freddie's hand in Auston's pocket leaves, only to be replaced with Freddie's hand, and that's confusing enough that Auston has to turn around. 

Where he finds Mitch holding his room key, which explains a lot. 

Mitch holds out the gift basket he'd bought at the chapel, and Auston reaches out to take it before Freddie gets any ideas about moving his hand, since this time it's actually his. 

"You're not allowed back into our room until morning, Matts. Happy wedding." He tries to disappear into the elevator and close the door on them, but Freddie gets a hand in holds it open for Auston to follow him. Mitch promptly steps back out to wait for the next one. 

They kiss some more as they ride up to their floor. 

It takes at least three tries for Freddie to get the door open and get them inside because of the kissing thing. 

Of course, once they're inside it stops, and Auston must look puzzled because he gets one more peck on his lips before Freddie reaches out and takes the basket Mitch had given them. He clears away the cellophane wrapper and pulls out a bottle of champagne, holding it out. An offer. Auston shakes his head, he's had enough of it for now, but he's not ruling out later. Instead, he bends to look at what else is inside the basket, but Freddie distracts him with with hands at his waist and a mouth on his neck, and the mumbled word _bed_. 

Auston is more than happy to follow him to the other side of the room and let Freddie strip him out of his suit. Auston returns the favor, running his hands all the way around Freddie's body as the fabric falls away. When they're both naked, he pushes Freddie down so he's sitting on the bed, and straddles his thighs, pressing their dicks together. Freddie's hands slide down to the curve of Auston's ass and pull him in closer, and Auston can't help the groan that escapes. 

"Fuck," he breathes into Freddie's neck. He's fairly sure that's the only word left in the English language. "Fuck fuck fuck." 

He's left speechless when Freddie moves a hand between them and wraps his thick fingers around Auston's dick, slowly stroking and making Auston lose his mind. The tug of the smooth metal of his ring makes Auston remember why they're here tonight, because while they've hooked up on the road before, it's rare that they do. Freddie likes his own bed, and Auston likes Freddie's bed almost as much. 

Maybe it's because his head is swimming, drunk more on Freddie and weddings than the drinks he had at the party, but Auston comes embarassingly fast. One twist of Freddie's hand, the ring dragging over the sensitive head of his dick over and over with each stroke, and he's gone. He spills over with a cry that would also be somewhere near humiliating if Freddie didn't drag Auston's mouth to his and swallow it, along with all of Auston's breath, deflating his bones and causing him to slump over, arms tight around Freddie's strong, square shoulders. 

Freddie carefully twists them around, encouraging Auston to move until he's laying on the pillows and Freddie can lower himself between Auston's spread legs and crush him into the mattress. Auston can feel Freddie's dick pressing into his hip, warm and insistent, and Freddie is shifting his hips constantly, rubbing up against Auston, sensitive and spent, and absolutely mindblowing. 

"I want to fuck you," Freddie rumbles. Auston can only make out the the words, but he knows what Freddie wants anyway. 

He wants it too. The few times Freddie has done it have been luxurious. Lots of time for Freddie to spread Auston out on his king sized bed, to take his time until Auston was begging for it, to slide in like Auston was made of air, which is how he felt; floating, gliding, safe, small under Freddie's heavy frame. He wants that now, wants Freddie to pin him down and take what he wants. 

But they have a long flight in the morning, and he comes down to earth when he has to tell Freddie no. He seems to understand, stays where he is and kisses Auston more, rides his hip and gets Auston on his way back to the edge, a slower burn than before, but the flames unmistakeable. 

"I'll be back," Freddie says, biting at Auston's ear. And then his disappears. Auston takes the opportunity to pull the duvet back and crawl into bed. They may be in a hotel that is fully climate controlled, but he grew up in a desert like this one and it gets cold in the winter, and all their curtains are open, the chill starting to seep through the glass. 

When Freddie comes back he's got something in his hand, and Auston lets him get settled back in under the blankets, kisses him again, and hooks a leg over his. 

He pulls Auston close and reaches around to hold Auston's ass. "I have an idea," he says.  
Auston has no idea what he's talking about and It must show on his face because Freddie brings his hand up to trace over Auston's brow. "Trust me, babe." 

_Babe_. He's never been called that before, not in bed, and definitely not by Freddie, who generally doesn't talk all that much in bed, other than giving Auston instructions, sometimes. 

Freddie opens his hands and shows Auston the tiny lube packets he's holding. 

"Mimosa?" Is the first thing Auston can think of to say, because he's pretty sure it came from the gift basket Mitch bought them, which means his best friend has bought him _brunch cocktail flavored lube_. Auston needs to know if Mitch knew that when he bought the fucking thing. 

He really doesn't want to think about it, so he pulls Freddie in for another kiss. Auston is half on top of him, and he can feel Freddie messing with something. He figures he'll find out eventually, so he stays put, thrusting his dick against Freddie's hips, desperate. 

Freddie brings a finger up to Auston's mouth, and he automatically opens up to suck it in, then realizes that a) Freddie's finger is slick and b) there's a horrible fake orange taste landing on his tongue, and this time he does cough and turn his head because what the fuck? 

"That's supposed to be mimosa? It's like Sunny D but even more fake somehow." 

Freddie laughs, and Auston grins back at him before wiping his lips on a pillow. Freddie's dick is hard and red, laying above his stomach and Auston would blow him if Freddie didn't beat him to it and slick himself up, probably with the horrible lube, and Auston never wants to taste that again in his life. 

And he used to _like_ Sunny D. It's not possible to participate in American youth sports without drinking the stuff. A lot. 

Auston puts memories of childhood hockey and baseball away and concentrates on the way Freddie cups his head (unthinkingly smearing some of that awful stuff into his hair, but that's what showers are for) and kisses him to distraction. Once Auston is breathless, Freddie rolls him gently onto his side and runs a hand up between his thighs, making Auston open up, and then shout as a blob of cold gel lands on the sensitive skin right by his balls. 

Freddie is giggling into his neck, and it's contagious, because Auston starts laughing too, breathless with it, though it quickly turns to simple breathlessness as Freddie warms up the lube and smears it around between his legs and all the way back to his hole. Auston feels slippery when Freddie finishes, wiping his hand off on Auston's dick, stroking him a few times for good measure. He lets Auston's leg down, positions him the way he wants, and throws his own thigh over Auston's, pinning him in place. 

It feels weird, having Freddie sliding his dick over Auston's hole and not in, but then Freddie hits the spot behind Auston's balls, a slow, wet glide that isn't quite what he wants, but is still amazingly good. It's even better when Freddie reaches around and grabs Auston's dick in a loose grip, holding him while each thrust he makes causes Auston to fuck his hand. Another few minutes and Auston is right on the edge again. 

He's surrounded by Freddie, one of the things Auston can't get enough of when they hook up. He takes up a lot of space: he's big and tall and always out in front of cameras, but Freddie can make that all disappear with a hug or a good fuck, which is currently happening. He squeezes his thighs together to hear Freddie's moan, feels Freddie's teeth sink into his shoulder, and closes his hand over Freddie's, desperate to get off again. 

This time, his orgasm bubbles up in him, sudden. He's been riding the edge for a minute, but Freddie isn't speeding up or tightening his grip, despite how much Auston is begging or trying to match and speed up his rhythm. Freddie is un-moveable; a brick wall; oh god, Auston is never going to be able to hear either of those things in practice with a straight face again. But more importantly, he wants to come, _now_ , and Freddie isn't letting him. 

But one more stroke, Freddie's dick hitting him just right at the same time as Freddie's thumb swipes over the head of Auston's dick and that's it. He's done. He's coming all over Freddie's hand and the sheets, and Auston is absolutely not sleeping in the wet spot. 

Two breaths later, Freddie is pulling out from between Auston's thighs, rolling him over, and straddling him. Auston grabs on and watches as Freddie jacks himself until he's coming all over Auston, making a complete mess of his torso and then sitting back to admire his work. 

Auston grabs Freddie's hand and laces their fingers together, feeling the gaudy ring they'd picked because it was the first one they'd seen. 

"Fuck, Riko," Auston breathes, then giggles because Freddie is using his free hand to trace the contours of Auston's muscles, and he is apparently more ticklish than he thought. 

"You're disgusting," Freddie says, wiping his fingers on Auston's pecs. Like he's not the one who did that. "I've married a slob." 

"You could always clean me off," Auston offers, nodding towards the bathroom. Freddie rolls off of him and offers his hand to help Auston out of bed, and heads towards the shower.

***

Auston wakes up with a warm weight on top of him, and he can feel the hangover lurking behind his eyes. He snuggles down a bit, trying to ignore how badly he needs to pee and how rank his mouth tastes for another two minutes.

A hand tightens on his side, and Auston is on a team trip and sharing a room with Mitch. While they've accidentally fallen asleep in the same bed, they wouldn't be naked if they had, and the hand at his side is moving down to his ass. So definitely not Mitch, then. 

He's definitely interested in what that hand is suggesting, but not before he takes care of his morning breath problem. It's only polite. 

"I'll be back," he tells his partner with the roaming hand, and rolls out of bed, grabbing his phone from the bedside table to look at while he brushes his teeth. He needs to know how long he has before he absolutely has to duck and run back to his own room to catch the plane. 

Except that when he tries to unlock his phone, it's dead, and the bathroom doesn't have any of his own things on the sink. He does find the toothpaste and a complimentary hotel toothbrush that somehow both pokes at his gums and also doesn't clean his teeth well enough. He also washes his face in a futile effort to wake up fully. Even though it doesn't work, he goes back out and finds Freddie sitting up in bed, propped up with pillows and a sheet pulled up just far enough to deny Auston a view of his thighs and dick. He feels cheated. 

The smile Freddie gives him is soft, and goes a long way towards soothing Auston's annoyance over the view. He still gets some of it when Freddie throws back the covers to get out of bed. He lands a quick kiss on Auston's cheek and brushes past him into the bathroom with a muttered, "my turn." 

There's a promise there, but Auston has no idea if they'll be able to make that happen, because they are flying out sometime soon, and Auston has no idea because his phone is still dead. He usurps Freddie's charger and then goes to dig out a spare pair of shorts and a shirt he can borrow to get back to his own room where his travel suits are. Also where all of his things that he needs to pack for the flight home are. Clothes are easy enough, even if the shirt has Freddie's number and is way too big for Auston. 

He rifles though his pockets as he folds up his suit from last night, and realizes he must have put his key somewhere else, so he starts methodically combing through all the surfaces to find it. He doesn't find his key. 

Instead, on the coffee table, he finds a gift basket full of condoms and packets of lube, two used champagne flutes and a half drunk bottle of bubbly, and a certificate. A marriage certificate, with his name on it. Also Freddie's. And it's his real signature, not his autograph. It's a good thing the couch is right behind him because his legs feel shaky, and when he scrubs his hand through his hair to get it out of his face he realizes he's wearing a ring. 

On his left hand. 

A wedding ring. 

He's married to Freddie. 

That's a hell of a way to start off 2018. 

Before he can gather up the rest of his things to flee back to his own room, Freddie walks out of the bathroom and over to Auston, settling his hands on Auston's shoulders and pulling him backwards for a slow kiss. 

"Good morning, husband," Freddie says, with zero hesitation in his voice at the word _husband_. He's nuzzling into Auston's neck as he speaks, biting at the sensitive curve, right under his ear. 

This, Auston can do. This is normal. Ish. The whole hookup thing is fairly new, but at least it's not the first time it's happened. He knows how to handle it, is the point. He'll just ignore the _marriage_ part of the equation until later when his head clears up. They should order some breakfast. That'll help. 

But first, he needs to kiss Freddie because he's right there, and as crap as Auston's head feels, his dick doesn't care, and is letting him know that _yes please, get a hand on it_. He thinks he's read something about orgasms as pain relief. Worth a shot, in any case. 

"How much time do we have?" Auston asks. He's not willing to hold up the team bus, or pay the fine for it which is money _and_ the story of why he's late, which has to take at least five minutes to tell. 

Auston doesn't think the team wants a play-by-play of last night. 

Even if they do, they're not going to get it, because Auston will _not be late_. 

"Twenty minutes until you need to go pack," Freddie says. "An hour until we have to be on the bus." 

Okay, that's enough time for a blowjob. 

Auston gets back to his room thirty minutes before the bus leaves, but he'd really needed that shower. Also, Mitch is the best friend in the world because Auston's things are already packed.

"Have a good honeymoon?" Mitch asks without looking up from his phone. Auston can still see his shit-eating grin. 

Mitch is actually the worst friend.

***

Auston settles into his usual seat on the plane at the table with Patty and Mitch and Mo. Freddie boards after him and Auston catches his eye and nods, not knowing what else to say since they're surrounded by their teammates.

They're married, but they're not actually dating. Their entire history is a few drunk hookups over the summer, a few less-drunk hookups in the last few months, and a drunken marriage in Las Vegas after losing a hockey game. 

Because Auston's best friend is a dick. 

Said best friend waits until they're cruising and everyone's had their fill of the very obvious healthy hangover-cure breakfast provided before standing up holding a bottle of water and shouting to get everyone's attention. 

"Listen up Buds! We've got some happy news," he starts. He bangs a plastic fork against his plastic bottle, but it doesn't make quite the impact he's going for. Mostly it just crinkles. "As some of you are aware, our favorite starting goalie proposed to our number one center at the party last night." 

Auston catches Freddie's eyes two rows up. 

Mitch continues. "I'm very happy to announce that they just couldn't wait one minute longer, and they got married at approximately two am this morning. As Auston's best man, it is my honor to give a toast to the happily married couple. Someone get me something other than water." 

Marty obligingly hops up and grabs a juice from the table and tosses it over. 

"They say that what you do at the stroke of midnight on New Year's is what you'll be doing for the rest of the year. Auston, Freddie, you missed that window by about two hours, but I think it's safe to say that we know who you'll be doing, anyway. Especially on the road so I can have our room to myself for the rest of the season." 

Everyone laughs, and Auston can feel his face heating up. He works at keeping his expression neutral and tries not to touch the ring where it's hanging on his chain, under his hoodie. He can feel the weight of it against his chest anyway. 

Mitch continues to speak, with the whole plane laughing along. "Freddie, this is where I threaten to end your life if you hurt my best friend. But we all know that's never going to happen because you're our starting goalie, and that would just be bad for everyone involved. So instead, I'll ask you nicely: never break his heart, unless you're blocking his fancy shootout moves in practice. Maybe if you work with him long enough he'll be as good as the US Women's team. 

"Hockey is unpredictable. Anything could happen at any time. Win or lose this season, you two have won the big prize. Now maybe you can use your marital bliss to help us win that other big one. My living room could use some new, silver, decorations. 

Mitch raises his juice bottle. "To Juicy and Riko." 

Everyone follows him and takes a sip of whatever beverage is closest. "Now I want to hear from each and every one of you fuckers," Mitch says. "Marty, you're up." 

One by one, everyone on the team speaks, mostly just a sentence or two, some more sincere than others. Hyman veers into pure sap territory, which is expected but also necessitates Auston throwing an empty bottle at his head before he gets too far. 

"Save it for your girlfriend, not my husband," Auston calls out. This earns him a punch in the shoulder from Mitch, but it barely even registers compared to the hits he's used to taking, so he shrugs it off. 

Mo stands up after being called on by Bozie, and he's got notes with him, which Auston hadn't even noticed he was writing even though they're at the same table. 

"I know we spend half our lives talking about teamwork, but I'm going to say a few more words about it now. First, we all know teamwork makes the game: Freddie, we count on you to carry us through when we fuck up. Make sure you keep that up. Not saying you're going to fuck up, Matts, but none of us are perfect, and now you've got a star goalie backing up your play. And Riko, we know you can handle anything the opposing team throws at you, but now you've got Juicy Matthews to get in and help shovel the puck out. Always have each other's backs. 

"Second, teamwork is more than just having each other's backs on the ice. You work together to make the play, get it going and hope it doesn't fall apart. So talk to each other. Make a plan, attack life as a team, stick to the plan, and you'll get some offense going."

"Who are we supposed to be attacking, Fours?" Freddie asks. 

"Life," Mo answers. "Listen to me when I talk." 

Auston wishes he hadn't already thrown his bottle at Zach. 

"I had a third point, but mostly what I'm saying is that you guys are a good team, and we know how far that gets you, even in those games where everything goes wrong. You've got each other and that's the most important part." 

From two rows up, Freddie tosses Auston's water back so he can take a drink with everyone else. He thought Mo was done speaking, but he doesn't sit down. 

"Also, since none of you fuckers said it, kiss!" 

The team easily takes up the chant, not showing any signs of letting up even though Auston and Freddie are both rooted to their chairs. Almost in slow motion, Auston watches Mo catch Mitch's eye, and the next thing he knows, he's being pulled out of his seat and steered to Freddie's, where he's unceremoniously dumped in his lap. 

The catcalls from the team only get louder, so Auson flips them off before twisting to land an exaggerated kiss on Freddie's mouth, because fuck his teammates if they think he's too chicken to lay a kiss on his husband in front of them. 

Freddie wraps a hand around Auston's waist and holds him there while Patty stands up. Auston has no idea what to expect; he's not even sure if the team believed Mitch's announcement. Patty, though. He's basically Auston's dad on the road. And he looks completely serious when he turns to face the two of them. 

"We all know this business is unpredictable. Any of us could be traded anywhere. Or injured. Or moved onto an expansion team. But even if that happens, you'll have someone waiting for you at home. To console a loss or congratulate a win. To spend the -- hopefully short -- summers playing golf and fishing. But even if the summer is longer than you want, they'll be your time together. Learn to cherish it, no matter when it comes. Make sure that not everything in your life is hockey. Or video games. Do things on your own, but come together when it matters. 

"But above all, be each other's best friend. But I think you've got that one down already." Patty raises his bottle. "To Auston and Frederik, and a long and happy career and life together." 

Auston is frozen to his seat in Freddie's lap, the warmth of Freddie's hands anchoring him. He drinks with everyone, on autopilot. Freddie's thumb is moving in a soothing motion on his thigh, and Auston would turn and kiss him for real if they weren't on the plane. 

That desire is killed in an instant when Babs stands up, holding a water bottle and a piece of paper. 

"Now that you're all done, let's go over the schedule for the next week." 

Auston slides off Freddie's lap with little fanfare, and goes back to his seat to pull out his practice calendar. He's pretty sure there's something wrong with the air conditioning on the plane today, because he feels just a little bit colder than normal.

***

They go home and drop the first game of the year to the Bolts. It's a shitty way to start the year, especially after ending the year on a loss; they're still in a really good position for the playoffs, which is something at least. Auston knows it's just two games, and in hockey the New Year is an arbitrary divider in the season, but it still sucks.

Mitch and Naz are up for the post game; Auston sticks to his stall as he sheds his equipment, avoiding the view of any camera, trying not to get caught watching Freddie get out of his pads and stretch. As the cameras leave, Mitch catches him at it and gives him a wink. Thankfully, no one else seems to have noticed. 

He does go to talk to Freddie when the press clears out. 

"You okay?" 

Auston can't even imagine the stress goalies are under. The literal last line of defense when the rest of them can't get their feet under them. The thing is, it's Freddie's fifth year in the NHL. He's lost games before, and he's been on worse losing streaks before. 

But he wasn't Auston's husband then. Auston isn't really sure what he's supposed to be doing, but he's sure it's something. 

"I'm good. Just have to keep going. We'll get the next one." Freddie shrugs and pulls off his shirt. "Want to come over tonight?"

Auston is never going to say no to sex with Freddie. 

He has to let Mitch know he won't need a ride home, since he drove them both in today, and Mitch also gives him a fistbump. 

Freddie waits for him in the lounge, headphones on, eyes closed. If they weren't in a team space, Auston would climb on his lap and get Freddie's lips on his. Hell, the entire team knows they're married so Auston considers it anyway. 

Then again, there's no reason to give the team any more ammunition for chirping than they already have. 

He kicks Freddie's foot and gets a goalie glare first, and then a smile.

***

Freddie's condo looks exactly like it did the last time Auston was there; the bench by the door, the coat rack in the corner that's filled with random bits of equipment. Auston shrugs off his coat and hangs it on the rack, takes off his shoes, and turns to face Freddie, only to find him standing a lot closer than he was before. Before he can get any words out of his mouth asking questions like "what are we doing here?" Freddie pushes him back against the door and kisses him.

Auston leans his head back to give Freddie better access. He's still holding his phone, because he wasn't expecting this to happen either in the entryway, or immediately after arriving. It's not how this thing usually goes. He at least has one hand free, which he uses to wrap around Freddie's waist and pull him in, feeling the solid weight pushing his back against the door. It's a struggle to get his phone back into his pocket so he can use both his hands to keep Freddie exactly where he is. 

"Hi," Freddie says, pulling an inch back so he can rest his forehead against Auston's. 

"Hi back." 

Freddie kisses Auston again, slow, controlled, taking away Auston's ability to think about anything else. "Better," he says when he pulls back a second time. 

Auston's heart is racing and his breath is gone, so he doesn't try to say anything back. 

Though he nearly manages something when Freddie pulls back and wanders away. Auston has to adjust himself before he can comfortably follow, because his dick was also starting to get interested in the proceedings. 

It doesn't take long to find Freddie in the kitchen where he's got two bottles of gatorade, one in Auston's favorite flavor, and Freddie tosses it over. 

"So." Auston really has no idea what's happening. Except hopefully sex, eventually. It's a good way to put bad games behind you. 

"I'm going to blow you," Freddie says, voice rough. He'd been shouting at them a lot on the ice, and a flare of heat races through Auston thinking about how much more rough his voice is going to be after. 

Freddie takes a long drink, tilting his head back and showing off his neck. Auston gulps some air, then remembers that he's holding a gatorade and gulps that down, too. 

They don't talk about hockey. They don't really talk at all. Auston hops up on the island and Freddie steps easily between his legs. Between drinks, he uses his mouth to nibble up the side of Auston's neck, and, after he downs the last of the bottle, he reaches between them and slips his hand into Auston's pants. 

Right now, Freddie's mouth tastes like Auston's least favorite gatorade flavor, but he couldn't care less because Freddie's tossed the empty bottle somewhere and is now using his other hand to nudge Auston's legs farther open so he can run his fingers up and toy with the sensitive skin right at the crease of Auston's hip. 

Auston can only reach Freddie's waist, but honestly that's probably fine because Freddie's mouth really is that distracting. 

When Auston pulls away to get a breath, he manages to speak. "You said something about a blowjob?" 

He's expecting to have to get back down and follow Freddie into the bedroom. He's not expecting Freddie to drop to his knees in the middle of the kitchen. Maybe he should have expected something new tonight. Kissing was fine and easy and good, but the ring around his neck is weighing on more than just his chain. 

Not that he can put a finger on exactly what he wants to say right now, because Freddie's mouth is warm on his dick and the marble counter is cold against his ass, and Auston is going out of his mind. 

"Riko, fuck." 

He's going to come in less than a minute, which says really good things about Freddie's skills and really terrible things about Auston's stamina. He may be young but he's a professional athlete and he's fucking better than this. 

But then, so is Freddie. He replaces his mouth on Auston's dick with his hand, and moves his mouth to bite Auston's inner thigh, and he inches closer to the edge. Freddie's probably winning this one, but in that way that means they both win. 

Freddie sucks Auston in again, hitching Auston's legs up over his shoulders, and then that's it. Auston is coming, his heels digging into Freddie's back and really hoping the walls are thick in this building. 

He pulls Freddie back up and kisses him, definitely not tasting Gatorade anymore.

"My turn." Auston reaches between them and digs his hands under Freddie's waistband, wrapping his hand around Freddie's dick and swallowing his moan. Auston's position is limited because he's still on the counter with Freddie hemming him in, but he uses everything he knows Freddie likes: a tight grip, a twisting motion, Auston's mouth on his neck. It still takes longer than Auston took to come, but he knows Freddie is close when he crowds in closer and slips his hand down Auston's back, all the way down until he's toying with Auston's hole and starting to get him worked up again. 

Auston bites at his neck in response and tightens his hand, pulling Freddie's orgasm out of him. 

They stay there, breathing into each other's neck's for a few minutes before Auston breaks it by pulling his jizz-covered hand out of Freddie's shorts and wiping it on Freddie's t-shirt. It earns him a disgusted noise, a quick kiss, and enough room to hop down off the counter so he can go wash his hand and head to the bedroom.

***

Auston wakes up alone. He can hear Freddie somewhere else in the condo, singing along to some song Auston can't identify yet. When he gets out into the kitchen he finds Freddie scrubbing the counter.

It's their day off, which means they don't have to be anywhere, which means Auston can absolutely lounge around Freddie's condo with the heat cranked all the way up. 

"Coffee?" 

Freddie points to the compact espresso machine by the fridge. Auston isn't sure if he's offering to make one or if he assumes Auston would be able to work the thing on his own, so he shrugs. 

"I could use some breakfast."

"That's why I'm cleaning," Freddie says, tossing the sponge into the garbage and grabbing a towel. "I've got some fresh fruit for protein shakes but I didn't want it to taste like ass." 

"You like my ass," Auston says before he can stop and think about what he's saying. Because they haven't actually done that, but now that the words are out of his mouth, a slow smile is spreading across Freddie's face. Auston is not entirely sure what to do with the heat that surges through him, because he's also hungry as fuck, and he knows from experience that fresh fruit is probably the full extent of what Freddie has in his fridge; he's way too addicted to smoothie bowls. 

"Let's go to Mildred's for brunch instead."

***

After brunch, Freddie drops Auston off at home to shower and do his own off-day things, which usually means phone calls home, gathering up his laundry to be picked up, and a round of Fortnite with whoever isn't at practice.

Before he finishes logging on, his phone starts going crazy, and as Auston quickly discovers, the USNDP chat is the culprit. It's never fully quiet, but this is definitely a lot crazier than usual. Every single text is just lines of flower, heart, and eggplant emojis. When he scrolls back it's easy enough to find the culprit: 

It's a screencap with half a conversation in it, but Auston figures out what's happening pretty quickly. It's Mitch and Dvo and Chucky talking about playing in Vegas. 

_We got the NYE game. PARTY TIME even though we lost, and even babs was sort of ok wtih how hungover we were the next day. But nothing will ever beat matts and freddie getting married._

Chucky posted it with three lines of just question marks. The next reply is from Dvo: _dude wtf_ , and then everyone else started chiming in. 

_Like you've never done stupid shit while drunk assholes._

_I never married my goalie_ , Zach says.

Noah: _Do you have like a wedding wish list?_

Brock: _its called a registry my sisters getting married in may_

Auston snaps a quick selfie of him flipping everyone off with his left hand, ring easily visible on his finger instead of around his neck since it's his day off. 

He doesn't wait for the reply, and instead picks up his XBox controller and jumps into the game, only to find that no one he usually plays with is online. They're probably all still on their phones sending him text after text. He could call Freddie to see if he's got time for a game, but he just left Freddie, and, well. Things felt normal enough at brunch, but they'd spent the game day and the night after and the morning together, and Auston knows Freddie does sometimes value his time to himself. The ring involved doesn't mean anything really changed. 

On his own, he dies almost instantly, and gets sick of it really quickly, so he picks up his phone again and finds the chat hasn't died at all. They've moved from emojis to memes, and the usual trash talk is picking back up, which means they're probably done with him and his news.

But there's a non-group text from Chucky. _U ok bro?_

Auston is. Mostly. But Chucky's in Calgary and really bad at advice so it's not like Auston's going to give him the full story via text.

_Yeah i'm fine. Nothings really changed. We hooked up again last night._

Chucky's typing bubble starts and stops a few times before the next message comes in. _wait when did that start. Also is it a hookup when you're married?_

_Summer? We only fucked a few times_

It had been the easiest thing to say yes every time Freddie asked. Once the season had started they hadn't had much time for it, but it had been just as easy and good every time. And even outside the bedroom and off the ice, Freddie is one of Auston's best friends on the team. So when Freddie asked, said he wanted to spend his fucking _life_ with Auston, it had been just as easy to say yes to that, too. 

_So what the fuck are you going to do?_

Auston sends back a shrug emoji because that's the best he can do. He has no idea what's next, other than tomorrow's game. 

_Get online and play fortnite with me_ , he sends to Chucky. And that's that.

***

Auston normally sits with his lineys for video, but he oversleeps and makes it to the Lakeshore a few minutes late. He's not the last person into the room -- JVR is late to everything -- but there's only a few empty chairs, and it's very obvious where he's supposed to sit, because one of them is between Bozie and Polak, and one is next to Freddie. He takes it.

Freddie smiles at him, one eyebrow raised, asking the same question. And yeah, Auston's fine, he's just not sure why everyone who learns about his wedding asks him that question. Also they have a game tonight against the Sharks, and it's time to concentrate on that. 

When they go to change, Auston finds that his nameplate's been moved over next to Freddie's, and there's a banner hanging between their two stalls, congratulating them on their wedding. Zach's smile is turned up to eleven, so Auston knows that he's the culprit, and he can't even be mad about it because he knows that Zach is completely sincere in his best wishes. 

Mitch, on the other hand, is holding his phone up, ready to take pictures when he starts shouting, "Kiss! Kiss!" 

Auston looks at Freddie who shrugs, and moves closer. He's very glad that Freddie is as strong as he is because Auston isn't expecting to be dramatically dipped. Freddie grabs his arms and keeps him in place, and kisses him. Lips soft and gentle and gone so quickly that Auston is blinking in confusion before he remembers that they're literally in the middle of the locker room. 

When Freddie lets him up he grabs his nameplate and the banner and heads back to his stall to get ready to skate.

***

Freddie asks if Auston wants to go home with him after the game -- a win -- and Auston says yes, because he was never going to say no.

They don't get brunch this time because Brock and the rest of the Canucks are in town already, so Auston goes and meets him at his team hotel for a late lunch after morning practice. 

"Stay here for five minutes, I gotta grab something for you from upstairs." Brock says when Auston drops him off. Auston doesn't think much about it, letting the car idle and pulling out his phone to check instagram while he waits. He's liked about twenty pictures with his finsta before Brock comes back down with a white gift bag and Auston takes one look and feels like driving away entirely. 

He stays where he is, because he's nice like that. Brock will likely just bring it to the arena tomorrow if Auston drives away, and as much fun as his team is having with his wedding, none of them have started bringing him random household goods as a present. 

"Thought it would be rude to show up days after your wedding without a present, so here." 

Auston takes the bag and looks inside and finds a bar set. It could be worse. Maybe he'll even use it someday if the team ever has parties that move beyond red solo cups. Which isn't looking likely unless it's at Patty's house. And even then, no one's actually mixing many drinks. 

"Thanks dude," Auston says. 

"There's something else in there, but I'd wait until you get home to open it."

 _Now_ Auston is suspicious, and also tempted to throw the entire bag away and buy his own drink mixing things. But he won't. At least not yet. Maybe he'll just stick the bag in a closet and never open it, ever. 

"You gotta introduce me to your husband tomorrow," Brock says. 

"Sure you can meet him. When he's blocking your shot." 

Brock laughs and shuts the door, and Auston drives off home, leaving the bag in the car when he goes inside.

***

Zach stalks the entrance to the locker room after the game holding his present in one hand and texting Auston incessantly until he comes out. Bold, considering he got the primary assist on the OT goal. Auston has to go cool off and get his back seen by the trainer again, so he quickly opens it to find a slab of stone with the Leafs logo engraved on it.

"It's a pizza stone," Zach says. Which is good because Auston was going to look for some sort of mechanism to hang it on the wall even though it's kinda ugly. "Supposed to make the crust crisp or whatever. Most suggestions of what to buy for wedding presents are shitty."

He doesn't cook much, and neither does Freddie, but he definitely keeps a few pizzas in his freezer for quick meals, so he'll try it out at least once. 

"Thanks." Auston looks around at his exhausted teammates pulling off their gear and stripping down for showers; takes a minute to admire the freckled expanse of Freddie's back. "Now get out of here before my goalie husband murders you for that play."

***

Mo finds Auston in the lounge having dinner before their game against Ottawa.

"I upgraded you and Riko to the honeymoon suite in Bermuda," he says. 

Back when the three of them had booked their bye-week, they'd booked three separate rooms even if Auston had been hoping not to spend the entire time on his own. 

"I always wanted to have a teammate come with me on my honeymoon. That's _really_ romantic, Fours." Auston rolls his eyes and goes back to his dinner. 

"You know, Freddie said thank you when I told him." Mo fills up his plate and grabs a gatorade. "Partners are supposed to learn from each other." 

"It's only been ten days." The kitchen's made Auston's favorite chipotle grilled chicken, so he cuts off a big piece and stuffs it in his mouth. Mo shakes his head and turns to his own plate, and the conversation turns to the game tonight. 

Auston jumps when a hand lands on his shoulder, but he looks up to find Freddie standing there, so he kicks the chair next to him out and smiles when Freddie drops down in the chair. 

"Are we still leaving right after the game?" Auston had handed over his credit card to cover his portion of expenses, but he was still pretty vague on the actual travel detail. 

"Plane leaves at midnight," Mo says. "Five days of sun and sand and no fucking ice."

***

Auston sleeps for most of the flight. They lost to the Senators, which is difficult to do this year. And yet, they'd fallen behind early and never managed to come back. The flight is relatively short, which means they land in the middle of the night, and Auston is only half conscious as they check in.

He's on his way from sleepy to pissed off when the clerk tells him that he doesn't have a room under his name reserved, and the only reason he doesn't is because Freddie gets to him first. 

"I've got it," he says, setting his hand on Auston's shoulder. It's warm and gentle, and Auston is still mad as hell that they've apparently lost his room, and he _is_ going to have some words with Mo's travel agent, but at least Freddie is taking care of it. Auston will make some phone calls after he sleeps for half the day. 

"Congratulations," the clerk says to Freddie. "I think you'll find everything you might need in the suite, but please feel free to call us if you have any additional questions or concerns." He slides a folder across the desk, and then a key envelope. Just one. 

Auston wants to protest, but the clerk goes back to what he's looking at and Freddie gently steers Auston away from the counter with his hand that's still on Auston's shoulder. 

In the elevator, Freddie hands Auston one of the keys from his key packet and then presses a different floor than Mo is on. Auston has a creeping sense of dread. 

"You didn't really --" he asks Mo. 

"I told you, it's on me. Consider it your wedding present. And a better one than a pizza stone, eh?" 

Auston has no idea what to say to that. A _honeymoon suite_. Paid for by their teammate because they're married. And because their team thinks it's real, and not just a Mitch-encouraged drunken decision and a week of hooking up more than they had before. 

It's way too late at night or too early in the morning -- Auston doesn't know -- and he can't handle whatever this is. He'll talk to Mo tomorrow, get his own room, and they'll all be fine. They're a team, they have to fix shit quickly. 

First, though, he's going to faceplant in the hopefully giant bed in his suite. 

Even if it is covered in rose petals.

***

Auston wakes up around noon, alone. He's still extremely tired, and he's on vacation, so after he brushes his teeth and uses the bathroom, he opens the drapes on the beautiful ocean view, climbs back into bed and opens instagram. His feed is really boring, but he keeps scrolling until the door opens and Freddie comes in carrying two smoothies.

He's sweaty, in workout gear, and Auston flushes when Freddie catches him looking. They're married. Auston's allowed. 

It's still embarrassing to be caught. 

"You're up," Freddie says. He hands over the smoothie. "I didn't know if you would be." 

Auston takes his smoothie, his favorite, of course, and doesn't say anything else. Freddie knows he's not a morning person anyway, so he sits down on the bed with Auston and sips his own smoothie while looking at his own phone. After a few minutes he pokes at Auston's toes with his own. 

"You know what we don't have to do until next week?" He puts his hand on Auston's knee, warm and burning. Auston loves the way Freddie keeps reaching for him, touching him. It's anchoring him. He just wishes he knew why Freddie was doing it, because it's not something that he'd done before, and like. Nothing's changed since New Year's. 

Well, aside from their legal status. 

"Hmm?" Auston's still scrolling his phone and trying not to give too much away. 

"Skate." Freddie's hand moves farther up Auston's thigh, and Auston gives up on pretending. And very quickly loses track of why he was pretending this wasn't going to end with Freddie fucking him. 

Auston's been dying to get Freddie in him since they got married. He lets his knees fall open, giving Freddie more access, which he uses. He sets his nearly empty smoothie aside and moves over on top of Auston, settling on his heels between Auston's spread thighs. Auston would very much like him to do more than just sit there. 

Freddie leans forward and kisses him, pinning him to the bed in slow motion. As his weight settles on Auston's chest, his body wakes up, and he wraps his legs around Freddie's hips pulling in to draw him closer and get more pressure everywhere. 

Just when Auston's dick is really getting into it, Freddie pulls back and looms over Auston, his weight on his own arms instead of Auston. 

"Go shower, you smell like the plane." 

Auston opens his mouth to protest, but Freddie kisses him quiet, and then some, and pulls away again. Auston tackles Freddie back into his side of the bed in one quick move, catching him by surprise. From there Auston can sit on him and make out with his _husband_ as long as he wants. 

Freddie breaks the tie with one sentence: "Go take a shower and then I'll fuck you." 

Yes, Auston wants that, so he goes. 

It helps when Freddie joins him a minute later, crowds him up against a wall and squeezes Auston's ass with both hands in the guise of helping him get clean. 

Freddie's help goes from _nice_ to counterproductive very quickly when he spins Auston around. At first, he actually does wash Auston's back. He rubs each muscle; not hard enough for it to be a massage, but then Auston doesn't really want it to be. Most of the massages he gets are painful -- designed to keep his body in peak working condition rather than to help relax after a long day. 

Freddie doesn't dig his fingers into any muscles, except for Auston's glutes, and that only happens after he drops to his knees and soaps up the backs of Auston's legs, from his heels all the way up to the round of his ass, and then his crease. He rinses Auston so carefully that he starts to wonder if Freddie maybe got lost on the way to his dick. 

Auston is about to ask when he gets his answer in the form of Freddie nudging his feet apart, pulling his cheeks apart and _licking._

He half turns his head so he can look back at Freddie. Or at least, at the top of his head, which is pretty much all he can see from this position. 

"What the fuck?" 

Freddie pauses and pulls back an inch. He bites Auston's cheek before speaking. 

"I'll stop if you want." 

He doesn't wait for an answer, which is pretty inconsiderate of him. 

Auston forgives him a moment later when he licks at Auston's hole again, slower this time. He uses his tongue to penetrate Auston's hole. He loves getting fingered, and fucked, and this feels similar, which means he loves it. It's also a hell of a lot more intimate, because that's Freddie's _face_ and his _tongue_ , and his warm breath right up in the heat of Auston's body. 

No wonder Freddie had wanted him to shower. 

Freddie's moans are muffled in Auston's skin, but they still echo around the shower, sounding so much louder, creating a feedback loop that's going to short circuit his brain pretty quickly. He tried to wrap a hand around his dick to get off while Freddie is rimming him, but has his hand slapped away. 

He's on the verge of losing all dignity and begging for something more when Freddie stops and Auston is forced to ask again, "What the _fuck_?" 

"Stay here." he presses a kiss to the center of Auston's back and goes, disappearing into the bedroom still dripping wet. 

Auston steps back under the spray, soaking his hair and face before turning the water off and wrapping a hand loosely around his dick, not sure if he should just follow Freddie out into the room or wait for him to come back. 

He doesn't need to wait long in the end, because Freddie is there half a minute later, crowding Auston back against the cold glass and kissing him, stealing Auston's breath directly from his lungs. Auston is hard, aching with need, and he can feel that Freddie is as well, can't miss it with the way he's pressed their hips together. But Freddie won't let Auston do anything about it. Instead, he grabs Auston's hands and presses them back against the wall, meaning Auston can't actually touch Freddie's dick, or his own, while they kiss for long minutes. 

This time, when Freddie turns him around and drops to his knees, Auston is prepared for the hot breath on the crease of his thigh, for the wet, slick of Freddie's tongue against him, and he can't hold back a groan. Freddie takes his time, sneaking a finger in and setting an unsteady pace that keeps Auston on his toes. Almost literally. He can't keep still. He wants to press back against Freddie's mouth, to press forward into the glass to get some pressure and relief for his aching dick, to turn around and knock Freddie down onto the floor of the shower so he can ride him. 

Before he figures out what he wants most, Freddie stops and pulls away, and repeats his command: 

"Stay here." 

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

He tried to turn and give Freddie his best begging-without-words look, but he's held in place by Freddie's hand on his shoulder; when he hears the crinkle of plastic and foil, he stops trying to fight it and stays put. 

It feels like it takes forever for Freddie to roll on the condom and lube up his dick, but then he's back, grabbing Auston's hips, using his fingers to quickly get Auston lubed up. 

And then he's pressing in. 

Freddie is _big_ , Auston knows. But somehow he's never quite ready for how big he is when he's pushing into Auston. It's a really good thing he has a lot of practice regulating his breathing and his muscles, but it's a lot more difficult to do it here and now. 

Here, Auston has Freddie whispering encouragement in a mix of English and Danish, nibbling and mouthing at his neck in between holding him tight and making him float all at the same time. 

He catches a glimpse of Freddie's ring next to his own as he laces their fingers together and tries not to think about all the things he hasn't said since that night. 

Things he probably should say sometime soon. 

It's easy to put it out of his mind for later when Freddie is thrusting into him just right; a slow pull out and hard slide in, angled just right to make Auston go crazy. 

After what feels like ages, Freddie releases Auston's hand and wraps his around Auston's dick, not stroking but instead letting their movement work for him. Each slick slide of his dick and his hand brings Auston's orgasm closer to the surface. 

It's agonizing, and also probably the best thing he's ever felt. When it finally spills out of him, Auston can feel the wave radiate through every limb, leaving him loose and breathless. Better than scoring a perfect one-timer; better than a hard playoff win. Better than just about anything he's ever felt in his life. 

Freddie hold on and keeps going, speeding up and keeping Auston on a torturous edge. 

He can feel when Freddie comes; Freddie crowds him close, digs his fingers in tighter and stays frozen while his dick jumps and spills inside Auston. When he's done, he pulls out carefully and turns Auston around for a kiss. Slow and delicate. 

He whispers words against Auston's skin and clings to him until the cold creeps into their cocoon enough that Auston breaks out in goosebumps and shivers with his whole body. 

Freddie's laugh lights up his entire face, and Auston can't help but join in. 

"Should have left the shower on," Freddie says. He turns it on, then yelps when cold water hits his skin first. 

"It's a waste of water," Auston says. 

Freddie laughs, then tosses the condom while they wait for it to get warm again, then kisses Auston again while they wrestle for the best spot under the hot water. It's ages before they manage to actually get clean.

***

Four days off feels like a lifetime. They work out in the mornings, sometimes the three of them together, sometimes in pairs or on their own. Afternoons are spent by the pool or on the beach, evenings eating good food and having good drinks, and nights Auston spends in bed with Freddie. He doesn't want to know how Mo is spending his nights, but given some of the girls that were hanging around them during the day, he has a pretty good guess.

On the last full day, the three of them book a snorkeling and whale watching cruise. The departure time is earlier than they've been getting up, which had seemed fine when they booked it. In practice, Auston jolts awake to the sound of Freddie's alarm, mumbles something like, "fuck the whales, I need sleep," and attempts to bury his face back in the pillows. 

Freddie gets up, which leaves the bed feeling empty. A thought that shouldn't be so devastating after four nights in a row together. Eventually he comes back and pulls the blankets off Auston, and settles on top of him again. 

"Come on, time to get up. Fours is waiting." 

"He can go on the stupid cruise then," Auston says. He is absolutely not whining at all. 

"I want to go," Freddie says. "I am going and I want you to come with us." 

This time Auston does whine, like maybe it will convince Freddie to side with him instead of their teammate. 

He thinks it's working when Freddie moves down and settles between his legs, pulls down his boxers and swallows his half-hard dick in one smooth stroke. 

Auston is definitely awake now. He spreads his thighs to give Freddie more room, and hooks one leg up over his shoulder, and has to grip the sheets to keep from grabbing onto Freddie's hair when he gets the suction just right. 

Suddenly, he pulls back, letting Auston's fully hard cock fall back against his abs. 

"Tell me you're coming, or I leave you like this." 

He would, too, Auston knows. 

"Dirty pool," he says. 

He could finish himself off, and stay in bed, but Freddie ups the ante by bringing his fingers into it, toying lightly with Auston's hole. Just rubbing over the sensitive skin and putting light pressure on the spot behind his balls, causing Auston's dick to get impossibly harder and start leaking. 

"Fine. Fucking fine, you win," he says. "I'll come. Just let me come first." 

It only takes a minute before Freddie is swallowing his dick and then his come and then he's pulling Auston out of bed before he can even begin to enjoy the afterglow. 

He tries to jerk Freddie off while they both brush their teeth, but the different tempo and wrong angles proves impossible. Before they have time to fix it, Freddie's phone is ringing and Mo is demanding to know where the hell they are.

***

Auston has to admit that he made the right call in giving in to Freddie's demands; They find a pod of whales after cruising for an hour and a half, and the three of them sit up at the front of the boat with drinks and food, watching the whales and soaking in the sun that they won't see much of for the next few months.

The snorkeling is even better. They travel for another half hour to a secluded cove with a pristine beach and throw down the anchor. The captain pulls out all the snorkeling equipment and Auston does his best to pay attention to the short safety lecture all the while thinking about how good the cool water will feel after the hours they've spent in the sun already. 

Mo is the first in the water, but he's barely out far enough before Auston jumps in after him, swimming over to pull him under as soon as he gets close enough. Mo surfaces, spluttering, and gets an evil gleam in his eye that has Auston paddling away as quickly as he can, running around to the other side of the boat to wait for Freddie to follow them. 

Under the water, everything is gorgeous. Once they settle down and stop trying to drown each other -- which is to be expected, they're hockey players after all -- the three of them drift over towards the reefs, where Auston gets easily distracted by all the bright fish and coral and has to be dragged back to the boat as the sun gets low in the sky and their time is up. 

He doesn't notice his mistake until much later that night, when even the sheets hurt his skin and he has to send Freddie down to the concierge desk for some aloe lotion for his shoulders. 

Practice is going to fucking hurt.

***

Auston stays over at Freddie's when they get home, not wanting to go back to his own empty bed in his own empty condo when he's got Freddie right here. His bed is more comfortable, and Auston's hellish sunburn feels so much better after Freddie gets done putting aloe on it.

Mitch takes one look at him when they arrive at Lakeshore and bursts into laughter. Auston's burned face turns even more red as he tries to brush past his best friend -- now potentially former friend -- to go gear up and start getting warm. 

"I'm surprised you even saw outside," he says, taking a running half-step to keep up in the hallway. "Good honeymoon?" 

"Wasn't a honeymoon," Auston insists. It _wasn't_. They'd planned this trip months before New Years, and just happened to get married between booking the hotel and getting on the flight. The fact that their room ended up being a honeymoon suite is entirely beside the point. Besides, who takes a third person along on their honeymoon? 

So yeah, it totally wasn't a fucking honeymoon. 

The rest of the team files in and starts their own routines. Willy marches over to Zach and holds out his hand. 

"Pay up." 

Auston's ears burn. 

It might not be about him. Zach and Willy bet over stupid shit all the time. It could be about something from bye week, but he's not sure they did anything together, and he definitely remembers Zach announcing that his girlfriend had said yes to his proposal. 

Which means it's about him. 

He really just needs everyone on this team to learn to mind their own business. 

"What the fuck was that, man?" If they're going to bet on him, they could at least tell him what the bet was. 

"Nope," Willy says, cheerful. Auston hates his stupid weird square face. Especially when he's this smug about something. "We'll tell you when you're older." 

"I'm the one who's married already," Auston says. Which possibly isn't helping his case, but they're betting about his fucking sex life. His _marriage_. Auston honestly isn't sure which part of that is worse. 

He dresses quickly and gets the hell out of the locker room. 

Mitch comes to find him after video review. 

"You okay?" he asks. "You aren't fighting with Freddie or anything, are you? Everything's cool?" 

"Yeah, we're cool." It's the truth. Mitch is fucking annoying, but Auston knows he means well. And everything with Freddie is -- well, it's fine. It's just like it's always been: easy. 

Maybe too easy. 

Freddie wanders in and makes his way over to Auston, leaning over to kiss him, quick and soft. 

"Fine!" Zach yells. "No kissing during practice." 

"Not practice yet, dumbass." Freddie shoots back, and kisses Auston again. This time it goes on long enough to garner a round of catcalls, so Auston pushes Freddie away and heads out to hit the ice. 

He doesn't look back. 

Auston really hadn't known what to expect, coming back from a vacation with Freddie, but this wasn't it. 

Everything should be exactly the same. They were hooking up before, they're still doing it, and they still have hockey games to win. Including one tonight. He shoots a puck at the empty net and circles the ice a few times before the rest of the team gets there. 

Morning skate is shitty; Auston can't make any of his passes connect, probably because he's still mad at his lineys. They run rush after rush and can't get anything in the goal, which is good for Freddie and Mack and terrible for Auston and his line. Auston is still bristling when they walk off the ice. 

He rides home -- his own condo -- with Mitch, after giving Freddie a line about some things he needs to take care of. He needs clean clothes, and a suit to wear to the arena for the game tonight, but he's pretty sure Freddie can see through the excuse. He doesn't let Auston go without a quick kiss, this time in the garage and only in front of Mitch who is on his phone in the driver's seat and not paying them any attention. 

Just like the rest of his day has been, his pre-game nap is shitty, and he wakes up feeling worse than before. 

When Marty gets into a fight two minutes into the game, he knows he's got to get his shit under control because it's bleeding into the entire team, but he just can't get it. He can't score a goal. Can barely even get a shot off, and the only consolation is that no one else is scoring either. 

During the second intermission, Freddie pulls him aside and into the players lounge, where no one will actually see them, and kisses Auston, holding him close and probably trying to project his weird goalie-calm on him. 

It works. At least a little bit. 

Auston still can't score, but Connor does. But they don't hold it, and they lose in overtime, for their third in a row, and sixth in eight. He wants a do-over on the last three weeks. 

This time he really does need to go back to his own place because they're leaving for Philly in the morning and he needs to pack. 

He ignores all of his messages all night, and takes forever to fall asleep in his too-empty bed.

***

Auston's not the first one on the plane, but he's not far off. Skate hadn't been fantastic, but it had at least gone a little bit better than the day before, and then Auston had dressed quickly and headed straight for the airport. It's just a two-game roadie, so they'll be back home before too long, but it feels like forever.

He takes his usual seat by the window and is setting up his playlist for the flight when someone sits in the seat next to him. 

It's Freddie. 

Which. Auston's not mad at him, exactly. But he's used to sitting with Mo on flights and it's fucking with his routine. 

Everything's fucking with his routine these days. 

Including the part where Freddie wraps an arm around his shoulder and bring his hand up to Auston's face and kisses him. Auston almost kisses back, but remembers where they are, and that most of the team is on their way right now, and Freddie gives him a sad look when he pulls away. 

Auston squeezes his leg and tries to say _sorry_ in a touch, but he's not sure it works. 

Freddie stays where he is, at least. 

At the hotel, Auston takes his assigned key and follows Mitch up to their room. He quickly strips out of his suit and changes into more comfortable clothing, and starts unpacking the rest of his things. His suits are the easiest since they're packed in a garment bag. Mitch notices what he's doing about halfway through. 

"Dude, why are you even in here?" 

Auston takes his Airpods out so he can actually have a conversation. 

"It's my room? I have a key. Like every road trip ever." 

Mitch gives him a look like he's incredibly stupid. "I mean, Freddie has a single, why are you _here_ in _my room_. Like. I don't wanna know what you're doing but…" 

He trails off, leaving Auston to turn red, again. This time it's at least half frustration instead of embarrassment. 

"Jesus, I got married, I didn't have a personality transplant." Auston grabs his phone and his key and leaves. They're free until morning, and Auston knows Mitch has dinner plans. He doesn't have a jacket or a coat on, which means walking around outside is a bad idea waiting to happen, so he goes down to the hotel gym and hops on a bike. 

Mo comes to find him half an hour later. Auston isn't going hard; at least not anymore. Five minutes of pumping his legs as fast as possible had done a magnificent job of clearing his head and making him sweat, but it had also reminded him that he has a game tomorrow night and it's a really stupid idea to tire himself out for it. 

So instead of doing anything serious he's sitting up and pedaling slowly and fucking around on his phone when Mo hops up on the other bike and matches his pace. 

"If you're that soaked after doing _this_ since you stormed out of Mitch's room then I should probably send you to have a talk with coach," Mo says. 

They're both pedaling incredibly slowly and Auston is dreading another hotel guest showing up wanting to use the equipment. 

"It's my room too." He has a key and everything. 

He want to be mad at being interrupted, but he knows Mo is just checking up on him because he's worried. He also knows that he's given his friends plenty to be worried about in the last few days. Even Zach's texted him from Columbus, and he's usually the last to notice that someone else is having emotions.

Mo tries to start the conversation again. "So."

Auston huffs. He knows everything's wrong, but that doesn't mean he has to talk about it. He speeds up his legs. He's still not going anywhere near full speed, and he can keep this up for a while.

Mo gives it one more shot. "Look, you know I'm not the one you have to talk to, okay? I wasn't expecting you to get married, but you guys are good together, and I don't want you to fuck it up." 

If they don't give Mo the C next year something is fucked up, Auston thinks. He cracks, a little bit. 

"Nothing was supposed to change." He stops pedaling, but doesn't look up. 

"That's a shitty attitude," Mo says. When Auston finally looks up, Mo is facing him head-on. "Things change all the time. Would you expect to ice the same lines for the entire game if your wing goes down and doesn't come back out?" 

"That'd be stupid, since you'd end up shorthanded." 

Auston sees where this is going immediately. 

"Change is necessary. Not that it's always a good thing, but you've got to roll with it instead of standing still." 

Auston rolls his eyes, making sure Mo sees him. "That's the stupidest advice ever." 

Mo just shrugs. "Take it or don't. But definitely talk to Freddie. Here's a key, he's in his room. Also, you guys are not invited to dinner tonight."

***

Because all of his things are in his own room, Auston goes there first.

Mitch is on the bed playing with his phone, headphones on. He looks up when Auston comes in, and nods at him, but doesn't say anything. Auston will apologize to him later, but he's going to take a shower first. He takes extra care to be _completely_ clean, which is possibly optimistic of him, but it doesn't hurt to hope. 

When he makes it to Freddie's room, he's also on his bed, playing with his phone, headphones on, but he takes them off as soon as Auston comes in and sits down on the bed next to him. 

"I'm sorry I'm so shitty at this, dude." Auston says. "I just. I don't know." 

Freddie reaches out, hand face up. Auston takes it like a lifeline. 

"Do you want to be married?" 

The question cuts Auston right down to his heart. There's a lump in his throat and a pounding in his ears when he says, "Jesus, Fred. You have to ask?" 

"Yes." Freddie's eyes look sad. "We fuck, but we did that before. You've been avoiding me since we got back." 

"No, I've been avoiding everyone." His excuse sounds weak, but it's out now. He can't take it back. He can at least try to mitigate the damage. "They all made such a big deal out of it."

Freddie gives him a small smile. "It is a big deal, Aus. Getting married is usually such a big deal that people plan for it for years." 

"We barely took ten minutes." 

"Do you regret it?" 

And there it is again. Freddie really knows how to cut straight in with his questions. It's a valid question, Auston guesses. And -- he doesn't. Not even a little bit. 

"No. I kinda love it. At least when we're not getting chirped by everyone we know." 

Freddie sits up from where he's been lounging and moves so that he's sitting next to Auston. 

"Me too." Freddie laces their fingers together. "I don't think I told you that." 

"It was just a joke. At the party, I mean." 

Freddie squeezes his hand. "At the party it was. But I still meant every word." He waits until Auston is looking at him. "If you thought it was a joke why did you say yes." 

Auston hesitates. The easy answer is that he was drunk, which is also half of the sincere answer. If he hadn't been partying that night he probably never would have gone through with it. "I wanted to. And I was too drunk to stop myself." 

"So." 

"So," Auston says. "Now what do we do?" 

"Why do we have to do anything?" Freddie asks. "Unless you don't want to be married to me." 

"Oh my god, stop," Auston says, unable to stop a smile from spreading across his face. "I already said I did." 

"Then we should probably tell our families." 

Freddie says it like it's the easiest thing in the world. Auston's parents will be in town for their next homestand in February. He doesn't know how he's going to tell his mom that he got married without her there. But he knows they like Freddie; he's been over for dinner with them a few times. 

"Okay. Yeah, let's do that." He leans over to kiss Freddie, breathing with him. Connecting again, surprised to find how disconnected he'd felt after just a few days of living in his own head. 

Auston is completely fucked if either of them ends up getting traded. He's not completely sure how this even happened. 

"So I've been told we're not invited to dinner tonight," Auston says some time later. He's managed to lose his t-shirt and to get his hands down Freddie's shorts to squeeze his ass. "What should we do with all our extra time?" 

"Shooting drills," Freddie says. "Have to score on me if you want some." 

Auston rolls his eyes, then kisses him just to shut him up.

***

**Epilogue**

Wearing the C in Toronto is something that Auston was only minimally prepared for. The season's been up and down so far, but it's mid-February now and they're in a playoff spot, so he's not getting more than the usual amount of shit for being an American captain for The Best Canadian Team, according to Toronto press. And Freddie's been a solid rock, both in goal and for Auston at home.

But even so, he's still not ready to get on a plane for a Valentine's Day game in Vegas. 

Especially when he's been warned by Coach to make sure no one comes down with Vegas flu. 

"You can't give that speech," Mitch says from his seat in front of Auston. They're waiting for takeoff and Auston has no idea what to say. "You're like the worst example of doing something stupid in Vegas." 

"It was New Year's, I was drunk _after_ the game. And you're the one who pushed us inside anyway," Auston says. 

Next to him, Freddie just shrugs. "Worked out anyway." 

"I expected a messy divorce after playoffs," Mitch says. "I lost money on it." 

"Never bet against the house." Auston's read that somewhere. He's twenty-one this year, he can actually set foot in a casino. Gamble. His contract extension hits this summer so he's good on funds for it. 

"Do you know what he's talking about?" Mitch looks at Freddie, who shrugs. The flight attendants are coming around making sure they're all set for takeoff, so Auston puts his headphones in, sets his playlist and holds on to Freddie's hand, because it's what they do now. Auston isn't sure why, and he doesn't actually care. It's just nice. 

Halfway through the flight Coach gets up to talk about their practice schedule and the game, and when he sits down he nods at Auston, who is in no way ready for this. He runs his hands through his hair, quickly kisses Freddie, and stands up. 

"So. I'm supposed to give a motivating speech about playing the Knights, but we all know what we're up against here. Home ice advantage in this city is about more than just matchups. I know we're here on a holiday again, but we need to keep our heads and not do anything stupid." 

"You can talk!" Willy shouts. 

The floodgates open and pretty soon everyone is talking and yelling, so Auston yells back. 

"I can't get more married, assholes!" 

Everyone gradually quiets down, and Auston makes a note that he should check in with Willy and Kappy, frequently. They've stopped paying attention to the rest of the team and are getting lost in rapid fire Swedish with each other, little smiles that Auston recognizes only because he catches one on Freddie's face sometimes. 

Maybe he can get Mo to invite himself to dinner with them. 

"Look, guys. Just don't be stupid. Have a drink the night before the game if you're legal but not five. And like, set a limit and stick to it for the casinos. Look out for each other." Auston looks around and decides to go for broke while he has everyone's attention. "And under no circumstances are Willy and Kappy to be left on their own." 

"Hey!" Willy's disgruntled face is hilariously still beautiful. 

"That would have been way better if anyone else gave it," Mitch says when Auston sits down again. "You're still the poster boy for doing stupid shit in Vegas." 

"Smartest thing I ever did," Freddie says, slinging an arm around Auston's shoulders. 

Auston gives him a small smile. "You stand in front of hundred mile an hour slapshots for a living, your opinion doesn't count." 

"We could always get drunk and get divorced this time," Freddie says, the only clue that he's joking is the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. 

Auston gives him a full smile in return. "Now _that_ would be stupid."

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on twitter, @hllangel


End file.
